Years later, White Moon was at peace.
Their children were growing.
And Bella?
Bella sat in the packhouse garden, watching them play, laughing, strong, unburdened by the past.
Dante came up behind her, pressing a slow kiss to her temple, his voice soft.
"You're happy."
Bella leaned into him.
"I am."
Because for so long, she never thought she would have this.
But now?
She had more than she had ever dreamed of.
Dante pulled her closer, his voice warm, steady, unshakable.
"This is just the beginning, Bella."
Bella smiled, watching their children run through the fields, the sunlight warm on their faces.
"I know."
And for the first time in her life—
She truly believed it.
Because this time?
She wasn't just surviving.
She was living.
And she would spend forever doing it—with Dante by her side.
The end.